


Aim So Steady

by dedougal



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Fluff, Handcuffs, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-08
Updated: 2014-09-08
Packaged: 2018-02-16 16:42:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2277060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dedougal/pseuds/dedougal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If someone (the entire team) takes to leaving handcuffs lying around, Sid's got to use them, at least once.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Aim So Steady

**Author's Note:**

> I probably enjoyed Sid's non-arrest more than I should have. This kept me entertained through quite a few boring meetings. Thanks to Ro (my babe) and K for the encouragement. 
> 
> Obviously complete fiction.

The handcuffs that were left in his locker are silver and shiny and made of plastic. 

“Really funny, guys,” he told the room, trying to spot who was responsible. There were entirely too many people grinning at his discomfort. He shrugged and tossed a generic, “Hilarious,” at them before continuing to suit up.

There was another set of handcuffs in the bucket of pucks that got emptied out. These ones were pink and fluffy and some of the guys even batted them about the ice until Sid’s glaring resulted in Flower hanging them off the edge of his goal. 

Geno nudged up against his shoulder, as if to say it was all an enormous joke, but all Sid could feel was a dull heat along his cheekbones.

“Should send to Giroux,” Geno said, eventually, voice still slow and heavily accented. He was still working his way into the familiar world of Pittsburgh. Sid had his own routines to slot back into and practice was a valuable one of those. Informal skate, training camp, pre-season and then, hopefully, he’d be back to his set ways. He still laughed at Geno’s suggestion, his chucking trailing close to honk territory.

More handcuffs had found their way into his gear by the time they were done, though. Cheap plastic ones, more fluffy ones – pink, red and a pair of leopard print he was definitely not asking anyone about ever. There was even a pair of heavy metal that looked like actual police cuffs. They jingled ominously as Sid shook out his shirt.

He was tempted to thud his head against the wall.

 

Sid ached pleasantly as he stretched out. Practice, a slow afternoon gym session, a massage all added up to him feeling on top of everything. He’d even managed the whole presser after the skate without fucking up anything. And Geno had pressed a glass of red into one hand and the remote into the other before curling up with a magazine, a solid line of heat and muscle along Sid’s side. Sid settled into the WW1 documentary, fingers running through Geno’s heavy hair, until it was time for bed.

There was another set of handcuffs lying on top of his pillow, one of the metal ones, and there was only one person who could have left them there.

“Geno.” Sid knew his voice was probably wandering from relaxed and chilled out to something sharp and harsh that reminded him of his mother a little too much. Or even his father.

Geno ducked out of the en suite, patting at his mouth with a towel. “Yes, Sid?” He didn’t sound like he was asking a question. He sounded like he was laying down a challenge.

Sid grabbed the handcuffs off his pillow and dangled them, loosely, off two fingers. He didn’t say anything, just narrowed his eyes at Geno. Geno just smiled, wide and lazy, his eyes half hooded. Irritation warred with that peculiar fondness he always felt around Geno. In fact, the annoyance was pretty damn familiar as well. He was moving almost before he was aware what he was doing – sense memory like being on the ice – and snapped one of the cuffs around Geno’s wrist.

The moment hung in the air between them, crystal, like a breath before a snow storm. Then they exploded in a flurry of movement, battling, pushing, shoving and squirming out of the other’s grasp. They were breathless, laughing, and it was all a game until Sid managed to force Geno flat on the bed, hook his other hand into the cuff and leave him there, hands pinioned at the small of his back. 

Two things occurred to Sid as he sat across Geno’s thighs: one, he suspected he had probably been played because there was practically no way that he could beat Geno like this, not with all of Geno’s schooling at brotherly wrestling from Denis, and two, he was hard. In fact, Sid would lay money on the fact that Geno was probably hard too, especially with the way his hips were shifting under Sid’s thighs.

When Sid laid his hands on Geno’s waistband, shifting back to give himself room, he knew the mood had changed. Geno lifted up, just enough to still make it difficult, and Sid worked the loose sweat pants down over the generous curve of Geno’s ass. He left them at mid-thigh, another binding, and shoved Geno’s worn black t-shirt up until it caught against the handcuffs. Sid was breathing heavily now, chest heaving in and out, and he grounded himself by spreading his hands wide on Geno’s ass. 

He didn’t bother warning Geno, just leaned forward before his courage deserted him and spread Geno’s ass wide, licking across Geno’s hole. Beneath him, Geno swore, in Russian, and tried to spread his legs as wide as he could. That was all the encouragement Sid needed. He ran the point of his tongue around the sensitive skin, giving in to the urge to make it wet as he could. He even gently scraped his teeth across the meat of Geno’s ass. 

Geno was shuddering when Sid sat back, a mash of English, Russian and Sid’s name falling from his lips.

“You didn’t have to tease me to make me tie you up,” Sid said, trying to keep his voice matter of fact. It was quite challenging when his dick was pressing against his boxers, the head leaving wet trails in the material. “Where’s the key?”

Geno took a moment to answer, while Sid looked around their bedroom rather desperately. “In cup on nightstand.”

Sid unhooked one hand, rubbing across the bone of Geno’s wrist as he did it, gentle and reassuring. He even let Geno roll over and gave into the mute, grabby hands appealing for him to come close and kiss Geno. 

“Hands above your head.” He didn’t know if Geno would obey, would let him do this, until Geno stretched them up, bringing his wrists close together while Sid hooked them in place again. He wished he’d had the foresight to take Geno’s t-shirt off first, but he settled for shoving it up around Geno’s armpits, keeping the material out of the way with one hand while plucking at Geno’s nipple with his other. “Fuck. You’ve no idea what you look like.”

“Would know if Sid had let me put mirror on ceiling.” Geno’s smile was almost too much to bear and Sid leaned over him to kiss him hard and possessive.

“Never going to happen,” he said, firmly. If there was even a hint of wiggle room, Geno would pick and prod until Sid gave in, just for a moment's peace. He already gave in quite enough. There was still room for compromises though. Sid fumbled in his own nightstand until he pulled out the lube. “We can get a hotel room with one. One time.”

“Sounds good for honeymoon.” Geno was smiling again, watching proceedings with the type of laser sharp focus he normally saved for the puck and really good vodka. Sid shimmied out of his clothes, kicking the boxers into a heap he’d probably trip over later. He knew he was flushed all the way down his chest from the way Geno’s eyes slid downwards and he tried, desperately, to ignore what Geno was implying. He tugged off Geno’s pants, pressed a quick kiss to the head of Geno’s dick, then raised himself up above Geno on his knees.

“Love you,” Geno whispered, eyes touching everywhere his hands couldn’t. Sid found it hot – hotter than he’d expected. He wondered when he’d stop finding pretty much everything Geno did hot, though. He grabbed the lube, spilled a good amount over his fingers, and reached behind him, ignoring the way Geno let out a protesting groan. Geno’s fingers curled inside the handcuffs, as if he wished he was the one opening up Sid, making him take two fingers hard and fast. 

There was no time for any finesse. Sid knew what he wanted and he knew how to get it. He wanted Geno’s dick inside him, he wanted to ride Geno and he wanted it now. He’d probably feel it tomorrow as well, that stretch and ache that would just add another layer of right to his preparation. The initial stretch burned, close to the boundary where pleasure would tip over into pain. But Sid took his time, rocked his way down slowly, until he was fully seated on Geno’s dick.

It was easy, then, to rock up and slam down, hands splayed across Geno’s chest for balance. Sid even managed to brush his mouth across Geno’s, an altogether too brief crush of lips before Sid sat up, reaching behind him to hold Geno’s legs flat to the bed as he rode him hard and fast. 

The clink of handcuffs warned him as Geno brought his bound hands in front of him and the base of the metal brushed against his balls as Geno started to stroke him, slightly awkward and impatient. The constriction forced an angle that was different for them both, and when Geno started to lose it inside of him, lose the rhythm on Sid's cock, Sid brought his own hand around to jerk himself harder, spilling over his hand and both of Geno’s, a white hot burst of electricity through his entire body. 

Geno hooked his cuffed hands over Sid’s neck, drawing him close and into a languid kiss, mouths open and tongues dipping back and forth. Sid stayed there until the need to clean up made itself more urgent.

“Be right back,” he promised, unhooking Geno’s hands. He was tempted, devilish for an instant, to leave Geno cuffed but thought the better of it, unlocking first Geno’s left then his right. Sid dropped a kiss onto the heel of Geno’s hands before letting them flop back down to Geno’s side. Geno wouldn’t move until Sid pestered him, forced him to work his way under the covers and to curl around Sid.

It was only when they were both cleaner, both lying side by side, and the handcuffs tucked away in the drawer in the closet that Sid hoped his mother never knew about, that he took the time to kick Geno’s shin.

“What?” The word was mangled by Geno’s half-asleep state.

“All those fucking handcuffs. I didn’t get arrested, you fucker. I wasn’t even in the same country, let alone province.” Sid tried to sound pissed off but he knew he was probably failing, sleep tugging at him as well. He’d had a busy day after all.

“Like to see Sid sexy blush.” There was a wet, open mouthed kiss pressed against where the wide, pulled out of shape neck of his t-shirt gaped over his collar. “Selfish.”

“Can’t believe you used the word sexy there.” Sid pulled the sheet tighter around them.

“Sid always sexy, of course.” Geno’s voice trailed off and his breathing evened out. Sid listened to it for a while, a routine he’d adopted when they’d first started sharing a bed. It sent him off to his own peaceful night’s sleep just right.


End file.
